


When Love Arrives At Your Guild Stash

by overkill_max



Category: Terminator (Movies), Terminator: Dark Fate
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Gamer AU - Freeform, Long-Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overkill_max/pseuds/overkill_max
Summary: Grace starts playing the world’s most popular MMORPG: Legion. As she keeps leveling up, she realizes that she’s no longer logging in to play the quests. In fact, she’s playing almost every night hoping to catch an hour or two with The Commander, their guild master. What happens when their conversations stray from raids and boss fights?AKAThe Gamer AU
Relationships: Grace/Dani Ramos
Comments: 22
Kudos: 69





	When Love Arrives At Your Guild Stash

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an idea by: silverwriter01

//

**_The Terminator Saga_ **

//

This wasn’t Grace’s first foray into a massively multiplayer online game. She had tried The Terminator Saga when she was in high school. Just after her father’s death. The game was buggy and there was no tutorial, so most of the time it was slow and confusing to navigate.

It had only been fun because her friend group had all played it at the same time every week.

They would throw a LAN party and after having their fill of first-person shooters they would start playing The Terminator Saga.

The game was essentially a Doom rip-off. Except that instead of the demons of hell coming for you, they were machines rising to exterminate humanity. You played as an unnamed future soldier and would go around the ruined world of the future. Hunting machines, helping survivors rebuild and trade your equipment for nicer upgrades of the same looking leather jacket, jeans, sunglasses and shotgun.

It wasn’t as advanced as other role-playing games, where you had classes like a mage, warrior, etc. You were just a soldier and joined other soldiers with the goal of eliminating all the machines before humanity was wiped off the planet. Grace guesses that it was part of the draw, like Halo, everyone had the same weapons, upgrades and powers. It made it fun because it was more about the community you built at the end of the world. The friendships you forged.

//

As she graduated high school and started college, gaming and The Terminator Saga fell by the wayside.

She had other things that took precedence over a game that was only fun because her friend group was playing it. Most of them went to the same state school she did, but the other half scattered across the country and their schedules didn’t line up as easily as they did before.

They too, were living their college experience to the fullest.

//

It made her sad sometimes, to log in and see that most of her friends hadn’t been online for years.

There were still some hardcore users that kept it alive, but it wasn’t the same.

//

**_Bones Mostly Metal_ **

//

Everything was set to continue as it had before until a skiing accident fractured her tibia in 3 separate places while she was a sophomore.

The surgery was a success but now she had a ton of metal keeping her leg together. Adding to the collection of metal pieces that had become a part of her. The first surgeries happened due to a rugby training accident during the first couple of weeks of school. She’d had broken both her arms and the other leg. It had been a freak mishap where she ended at the bottom, there was mud and rain and people’s cleats dug into her instead of the field. By the time they had gotten the pile off of her, there were other students just as injured as she was, or worse.

Grace considered herself lucky. Due to her height and muscle mass, she had sustained the least life-threatening injuries. Two of her teammates had to be evacuated to another city in a helicopter once they got them to the hospital.

Their coach got sacked due to his negligence.

Their new coach, Coach Connor, was an asshole. She was tough as nails and refused to let them miss any physical therapy in addition to having to show up to practice and put in gym time.

Her teammates quit over that. Grace had a full ride tied to rugby. Her grandparents were retirees and couldn't afford tuition and medication. She had to endure whatever coach threw at her with a smile on her face.

The physical therapy, extra gym hours, the depression that followed after the accident and her trying to get back into The Terminator Saga because it was the only thing she remembered could make her happy, only to find empty servers, and actual wasteland of an abandoned game... It was tough. It lasted over a year, cut into her summer plans, but she survived. She healed and she was ready to go out into the field with her teammates. 

//

Then she had to go on a stupid ski trip with her friends during winter break and have more metal put into her body.

At this point Grace figure that half her body was metal.

//

Coach Connor told her she was no good to her in the field if she spent more time in PT than out playing.

Grace cried so hard she fell asleep in the locker room. On the floor of the bathroom stall. Rugby was her life and without it, she couldn’t afford college.

The next day, while she was cleaning out her locker, with red rimmed eyes and unsteady crutches, Coach Connor threw the play book at her so hard she lost her balance and fell on the floor.

“I took you for many things, but not a quitter. Go, make me some copies. We need to go over our plays later today.”

Grace looked at her from the floor and frowned. “I… I thought you said you didn’t want me on the team?”

Coach Connor laughed. “I don’t want you in my field. I need you on my team. Come on, let’s walk and talk.”

Grace struggled to carry the thick binder while using her crutches.

Coach Connor didn’t slow down. “Listen, I saw your major, which is bullshit, the first thing you need to do is take something serious. Get yourself a real degree like exercise science, physiology, kinesiology, fitness, physical education, sports management, sports medicine, hell at this point even nutrition will do.”

Grace was not more confused than ever. “Wait… what? Why would I need to change my major?”

Coach Connor went through the double doors and kept walking.

Grace struggled to open the doors and get through.

Coach Connor rolled her eyes. “God you’re fucking slow.”

Grace was red and huffing. “I’m on crutches, you dick.”

Coach Connor laughed and stopped. “There, that’s the fire I saw.” She emphasized her point by pushing her finger against Grace’s chest.

Grace was confused and Coach Connor read it on her face. She continued talking. “Listen, I can’t keep you on my team if all you do is find new ways to fuck your shit up. The first year was fine because Coach Cameron was a negligent drunk and all around idiot and the school needed to sweep it under the rug… but now you need to quit your bullshit and study something else so I can keep you.”

“Keep me?” Grace asked.

“Yeah, keep you. You know shuffle some shit around so that you can stay on as my assistant coach with that fancy scholarship and all that?” Coach Connor said with an air of casualness. As if it was no big deal.

Grace teared up again, dropped the playbook and threw herself at Coach Connor. Who was surprisingly, strong enough to keep them both upright, even as Grace lost her balance. “Thank you, Coach, I swear I will do anything. I’ll study whatever, double PT. Just, thank you!”

Coach Connor shrugged while being hugged. “I know, which is why you need to get serious with your major and make some copies. Here, pick a play and make enough copies for each of the players, plus two more. We keep our own notes on these copies.” She instructed as she unlocked the door behind her.

Grace was still struggling to pick up the book when Coach Connor exited the office, the copier was sputtering to life.

“And try to keep yourself off the floor, there’s germs or whatever down there.” She said before walking back to her office, inside the team locker rooms.

“Why don’t you help me then?” Grace whispered angrily as she struggled to get up again.

Coach stopped and turned to face her, almost as if she had super hearing. “I don’t help you with this because my job isn’t to baby you. It’s to teach you teamwork and cooperation… to teach you that you’re tougher than you think. If you want to be treated like you’re fragile, then just drop out and give up already… because this won’t be the first setback you face in your life, but this is the only place where you can choose to get stronger every time you fall. That’s why I pushed all of you. Because you will always fall, during games and apparently while tying your own fucking shoes or however you managed to break your one good leg this fucking time…” Grace opened her mouth to protest but Coach Connor cut her off. “Like I said, you will always fall… it’s up to you whether you get up.”

With that said, Coach Connor left through the double doors.

Grace used the wall to slide her body up until she could stand.

“Yes, Coach.” She said to herself, awed at how different the Coach they all thought they knew was from the inspirational woman that changed her life forever. All she had to do was believe in her. And now, Grace believed in herself.

//

**_Family_ **

//

Grace changed her major to Sports Management with a double minor in fitness and nutrition.

//

She struggled at first, to balance her new course load with learning what Coach Connor wanted from her. Feeling like she was stretched too thin. She barely had time to sleep, often falling asleep in the locker room while reviewing tapes with Coach Connor, jotting down tips for how players could improve their game.

After a while, she developed a routine and fell asleep a bit less, or if she did, it was on Coach’s new couch in her office.

Grace realized that she was tired, but she was happy.

Coach Connor was still a dick, but she was also funny and tough and full of devotion to her team and to Grace. Something she had failed to see when all she had been looking for was ways to hate Coach Connor because she didn’t understand why she was making them do half the stuff they were forced to do.

Now that she was on the other side of the desk, she understood how long it took to prepare everything. To make sure that the players showed up and were given all the tools they needed to succeed. Before she had taken everything for granted because it was always there, daily digests and tips on what she should work on for the week. Now she was grateful that she nearly got trampled to death. It had taken her athletic career, but it had given her something bigger than herself.

Plus, being a teacher’s pet, as everyone else teased her, came with fantastic perks besides a nice couch to fall asleep on. Like the cafeteria workers letting her sneak off with extra food, even though others had to pay double, or even having her own cup for coffee in the coach’s break room and a key to the faculty lounge in her building.

On top of that, they got along great and Grace could even mouth off to her, but only when it was them two. She always respected and deferred to Coach Connor whenever there were other players or even staff members around.

//

After a while, without recognizing it, Coach Connor had continued to make her life better.

Grace later learned to see it. It became an accident that she was are of how they had become a family. Although she knew that Coach Connor was her go to person, just like she had become Sarah’s, it still took her a bit longer to notice it.

She spotted it by mistake one night and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Now that she had seen it, she saw it everywhere. How they just worked well together. It should not have been possible because they both could come off as abrasive when they were trying to help. Or they were too quiet in a world that expected them to constantly be loud. And a dozen other ways that they were so similar that everyone expected them not to be able to get along as well as they did.

Grace guesses that it’s also why they worked so well.

That night, they were in their office. It was no longer just Coach Connor’s office. Everyone knew if they wanted to get ahold of one, they could ask the other. Or rather, they would ask Grace because Coach Connor refused to buy a cellphone. Her number was the one the administration dialed when they needed to get ahold of Coach Connor, who would be sitting next to her landline and refuse to answer it. “I’m watching my stories.” Coach Connor would say as she leaned back and continued to watch the score on whatever game happened to catch her attention.

She also noticed it when they were pouring over some new studies recently publish in the International Journal of Sports Physiology and Performance and trying to figure out if it would be beneficial to change everyone’s training or not. They were eating their usual Thursday night dinner of Chinese food straight from the containers when Coach Connor let out a frustrated sigh.

“These fucking studies are pointless.” Coach Connor said before tossing the empty container into the trashcan from where she was sitting. It made a perfect arc and fell in without even touching the walls.

Grace nodded. “Yeah. I know that trying to adapt studies only conducted on men is a bit hit or miss, especially when they don’t tell us what their diet is or their pre-intervention routines, but this is pretty interesting stuff.” She tried to find something positive about the study.

“Don’t fucking start with me. You read the same study. You saw that there were no significant results, and with a sample size this small, you should have seen something big because small sample sizes always skew the data. Thirty-seven guys, measured at those intervals should have seen a difference in the training program they applied.” Coach Connor rubbed her eyes as she leaned back on her chair. “At this point I don’t even want good, I want slightly better than nothing and this failed to show that.”

“Coach, come on, the results do show that five to ten sets per week might be sufficient for bringing about optimal gains in muscle size and strength.” Grace tried again as she started cleaning up their dinner.

“Whatever. I’m tired. Let’s go home.” Coach Connor said. Not really agreeing but not disagreeing. Which was a win in her book.

Grace yawned and picked up her stuff.

“No, you have to take out the trash from your office to the big bin outside or else it’s going to smell weird in here tomorrow.” Grace told Coach Connor before the older woman could lock up the office.

“I thought it was your turn this week, kiddo. I did it last week.” She feigned innocence. Hoping Grace would do it.

Grace laughed. “Not a fucking chance. It would have been my turn if you hadn’t lost the bet. I told you that the Lakers would win with their line up and you didn’t believe me. That’s all on you for having no faith in my boys.”

“I’m old.” Coach tried to argue while looking sad.

“And I’m crippled.” Grace said, pointing to her crutches. She had sprained her ankle while still undergoing PT for her broken leg and it had pushed back her recovery several months.

“You say that, but I just think you’re just doing it on purpose. All this to get out of cleaning the garage.” Coach told her as she grumbled through the whole process of taking the trash out and tossing it at the big trashcan out in the hall leading to the field. It took longer to complain about doing it than it did to toss it.

“Wouldn’t that mean I would want to get better so you would stop fucking reminding me about it every three seconds?” Grace asked, confused as she followed Coach Connor to her car.

Coach laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re the only person that looks forward to cleaning a garage because there is no way someone can fake being this clumsy. Not from the way all my nice plates keep disappearing.”

Grace sighed. It was the plate argument again. “You hated those plates anyway.”

“Yes… fine they were fucking hideous, but I would still like to eat things off a plate instead of my hands.” Coach tried to argue. As if they didn’t eat take out straight from the box most nights. They both sucked at cooking.

//

Grace woke up the next day to a pillow hitting her face. “The coffee maker broke.”

She groaned and turned over. Her covers disappeared and Grace shut her eyes. This was not fucking happening. She squinted at her alarm clock. “It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“Which is why I need my coffee. You always make me coffee.” Coach Connor complains. Sitting on her bed and poking at her sides.

“Sarah, I swear to fucking god I will smother you with a pillow.” Grace was so grumpy. She hated being woken up like this.

“Can you do it after you get us coffee? Or you can drive, I’ll pay.” Sarah tried finding a compromise that would involve the least amount of effort on her part.

“I am not driving us anywhere, my ankle is still jacked up… Plus, we have coffee at work.” Grace said, curling up and trying to go back to sleep.

“It’s Saturday.” Sarah said as she pulled the covers up again and settled next to Grace.

“Then grab my card and go.” Grace said, smiling into her pillow. She knew Sarah was about to go to bed again. She was like this, wake up, make sure Grace was okay and then go back to bed.

“You? Paying for coffee? Last week your card got declined while buying ramen. I don’t want to have to bail your ass out again at the corner store when it should be your treat.” Sarah told her as she started falling asleep.

“You’re an ass.” Grace yawned. Happy. It was nice. She missed doing this with her dad, after their mom died and it was just the two of them, it was hard to fall asleep by themselves. Having Sarah here was nice.

It made her feel safe.

That was when it hit her. They were family. Without meaning to, they had sort of become family beyond training players and helping her friends succeed. It was different. 

After she started working more closely with Coach Connor, they started hanging out so much and at first, she got a couch in the office.

Then Grace admitted that she was always tired because her dorms were old, and they had no elevators. She was exhausted going up and down the stairs. Laundry was a challenge because that was down in the basement and it took her 6 trips to do one load. She had to go up and down with one thing at a time because she couldn’t carry too much in terms of weight and items. Coach Connor invited her to just come to her place to shower, and essentially do all her laundry and hang out for the weekend. Somewhere she could easily get around because it was one floor.

Grace never left. Slowly more of her stuff filled John’s old room. Until one day she realized that Coach Connor had become Sarah to her while they were at home. A pain in her ass that was also funny and supportive. And she was Grace or kiddo to her. A person that just accepted her particular brand of love while also loving her back just as fiercely.

Another way they bonded was how they were also both lonely in the same way. Losing your whole family is a hard thing to explain to others. Even if it wasn’t the same kind of loss, they still understood each other in a way others couldn’t. 

It was nice, not having to explain why you suddenly got sad around certain dates. Or how grief doesn’t have an expiration date. To this day Grace still gets hit with a pang of sadness at the grocery store whenever she sees the same brand of canned peaches her dad was holding when he was shot.

//

//

**The Gift**

//

It was thanks to the new family she found with Coach Connor that led to what would become another huge change in a direction she could not have foreseen.

She was finally cleaning out the garage, which was mostly full of John’s old stuff, put in boxes but never tossed or given away that Grace came across an old The Terminator Saga poster and CD-ROM. Grace was smiling while staring at it when Sarah came out into the garage, asking what she wanted for dinner.

“I used to love this game in high school. Man, I can’t believe John liked it too.” Grace told her, not looking at Sarah.

Sarah nodded and placed her hand on Grace’s shoulder, also looking at the poster. “It’s all he played when he was younger. He chatted with strangers on the internet and all they did was talk about how to cooperate. He showed me, tried to get me to understand but I was always too old for that shit. Plus, I was finishing up my dissertation.”

“Do you… would it be okay if I put it up in my room? Or would that be too painful?” Grace asked, wanting to respect Sarah but also wanting her to have a way to remember her son by seeing the things he used to love around the house again.

“Sure, whatever you want, nerd. Don’t blame me if you never get laid for having that poster up though.” Sarah told her but there were tears in her eyes and she looked proud.

//

Next week Coach Connor came into her room and tossed a box at her. “Here you go kiddo, some more nerd shit to make sure you remain a 30-year-old virgin, like you always wanted.”

Grace turned the box over and immediately hugged Sarah. “No way! They released a sequel? Thank you.” She choked up a bit on the last part. Not ready to remember how she had to move in with grandparents she barely knew, on the other side of town. Where she had to take care of them as much as they took care of her. She liked the game because it was a fantasy where she was strong enough and rich enough to take care of everything and everyone.

//

**_The Saga Continues_ **

//

Grace grabbed a can of orange soda from the fridge. They might not be the best at shopping for groceries, but they always had the essentials: their favorite drinks. She went into her room and powered up her desktop.

It took a bit to install the game on her computer and to connect to the internet. Their landline was not the best, but they did have internet. Not many could say that. Of course, others had two landlines, one dedicated just for internet. She hadn’t been able to convince Sarah to spring for that package, so she was stuck using the phone when she knew Sarah wouldn’t yell at her for tying up the phone.

“Welcome to Legion, soldier! Please log in and create a character.” Grace smiled as she created a new character. The graphics were so much better than when she was in high school. Not only that but the manual promised that they could unlock different classes instead of remaining a soldier forever. Grace bit her lip as she read the guide again. You still started off as a soldier that looked like all the other soldiers there but if you kept leveling up you could rise the ranks and become the commander of your own resistance/guild.

She starts off in a bunker and exits through a long hallway. There is another character there. A soldier with fancier looking clothes and weapons. “Oh fuck.” Grace things she’s about to get killed for experience points. Instead the other soldier drops a ton of items in front of her.

“You are new character.” Pops up on the bottom left corner. It’s a chat message out to the general chat by DaniDF. Grace clicks on it and send the guy a private message.

“Yeah, I just started today.” She admits as she picks up and equips all the loot.

“Cool. I am Dani. I am commander. If you want me to show you around, you can follow me.” He types.

“Thanks, man, that would be awesome!” Grace is excited. It seems that The Terminator Saga is still as friendly as ever. She might not have her friends on this, but she hopes with this Dani guy she can meet some cool new people.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there are landlines and it’s set vaguely in the 90s. Why? Gay drama that will happen in later chapters. So if you can ignore the anachronisms that may pop up, you can enjoy the fic.


End file.
